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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286994">to drown.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/absenthium/pseuds/absenthium'>absenthium</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dexter (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Denial, Did i mention: denial?, F/M, I don't know, It just randomly came to my mind so i wrote it, Pretty much just a bunch of angsty stuff, Probably a little distant from canon, References to Sex, a lot of denial</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:40:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/absenthium/pseuds/absenthium</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Then there are nights where she calls him on the phone, and her voice quivers a little as she asks if she can come over.<br/>She appears in front of him and says nothing, and he holds her as close as he can, but she's far away. There's no laugh, no encounter of lips to fill the deafening stillness. She holds on to him and Joey thinks he might be dying a little."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Debra Morgan/Joey Quinn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>to drown.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>je te laisserai des mots - patrick watson</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It starts as nothing. A joke, a mistake, a raw sense of solitude consumed on the floor of a ghost house. Unspoken, hidden, because that's how it works, right? That's how it should feel.<br/>
It starts as nothing, but it's not like it does become something more than that.</p><p>Some nights it just feels <em>so easy.</em> She comes to his apartment uninvited, gets through the front door and kisses him without asking for permission. He undresses her and they fuck on the couch, and it feels good, good like a sunny afternoon could feel, like a laugh, like the adrenaline rushing in his veins. Sometimes they share a bottle of cheap vodka she has bought in some supermarket, get tipsy, and talk about whatever shit comes in their minds, or fuck again, or both, and he's somewhat enamoured with her. Those times, they kiss and it lasts a little longer.<br/>
Then there are nights where she calls him on the phone, and her voice quivers a little as she asks if she can come over.<br/>
She appears in front of him and says nothing, and he holds her as close as he can, but she's far away. There's no laugh, no encounter of lips to fill the deafening stillness. She holds on to him and Joey thinks he might be dying a little.<br/>
She lights herself a cigarette and inhales its smoke as if it is the only thing keeping her from suffocating. Debra has always had a taste for self destruction.<br/>
She offers him a drag, but he refuses. I don't smoke, he explains.<br/>
Those nights are the hardest, for both of them.<br/>
They do not talk about it.</p><p>It means nothing, yet they still find themselves looking for each other whenever the quietness becomes unbearable. It's not really something. There's a difference between <em>want</em> and <em>need</em>, between a glass of liquor and getting wasted, between love and the necessity to drown thoughts.<br/>
They meet once again, right after work, driving in silence to his house and finding noise once they pass the door. There's a good amount of laughter, this time, a joyful, rapid need, no time for words <em>again.</em><br/>
They have sex pressed against the mattress; she loses her head between the sheets' folds, as he crawls back to their shrine of insignificance.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So. I'm currently watching Dexter's season 5 and I'm starting to get feelings. Normal stuff, y'know. "Deb can step on me". "Joey is so dumb that he's almost adorable". Usual feelings.<br/>As I mentioned on the tags, I'm not even sure what I've written can be considered canon even in the slightlest. I think not, not at all, but whatever. I just wanted to write something. And I hope you enjoyed it.<br/>E.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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